


Man's Best-No, wrong. Man's Replacement Friend

by theaterkidsamwinchester



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Developing Relationship, Dogs, Eventual Romance, M/M, POV Sherlock Holmes, Pining Sherlock, Post-Reichenbach, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes and Feelings, Sherlock Loves John, jack russell terrier
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 03:52:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2678003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theaterkidsamwinchester/pseuds/theaterkidsamwinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is based on a prompt from the Sherlock kink meme, stating, "Sherlock gets a dog while in hiding." So that's just what he does. Starts after the Reichenbach Fall, diverts from canon after that point. Eventual John/Sherlock</p>
            </blockquote>





	Man's Best-No, wrong. Man's Replacement Friend

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by: [Drag_Me_To_Earth](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Drag_Me_to_Earth), who is doing a fabulous job of helping me keep my plot and timeline realistic to the books and tv series. Thanks hun <3

Sherlock has always found the insistence that dogs are man's best friends to be idiotic at best. If anything, they are just a replacement for a person's true best friend. People don't want to feel lonely when they aren't around the people they care about, or they don't have people to care about in the first place, and thus they get a dog. So. A replacement.

And well. Ever since Sherlock had had to leave John behind, he had not been able to keep from speaking out loud, as he had become accustomed to bouncing ideas off John, whether or not he was truly following or not. He was now utterly alone, without even the skull for company, and he had no desire to mingle with the idiots of the world. Thus he supposed this counted as being lonely.

_He did not want to admit that missing John was likened more to missing an organ or a limb, that a part of himself had been torn out of him without so much as a by-your-leave... No. Delete. He has no space on his hard-drive for such drivel when he's trying to take down Moriarty's spider web._

In order to rectify this situation, he decided that it would be prudent to get one such replacement friend from one of the local shelters near his current hideaway. He donned one of his multiple disguises, locked his flat behind him, and went down the pavement in search of the shelter that he had seen on the way back to his flat one day.

Once he arrived at the shelter, he snorted at the sign plastered on the door, which proclaimed that age old statement about dogs being man's best friend, before entering the building, cringing slightly at the bell that chimed merrily as the door swung open. He had never understood the need for such bells, a quiet chime would do just as well. He walked over to the counter, tapping his fingers impatiently on its surface as he waited for the clerk to come assist him.

The girl that came through the door was young, 16 or 17, just recently broke up with her boyfriend and has been working extra hours at the clinic to distract herself from it, and thus knows the personalities of the current boarders the best of any of the other attendants because she's been the one working for most of this week compared to the other's. He could tell from the circles under her eyes, the tan line around her neck which was once where a necklace was, and the calendar said that one of the employees was away on holiday. She'd be the perfect one to help him, if not for her immediate and unfortunate attraction to him. He rolled his eyes impatiently, he didn't need another Molly, and thus interrupted her before she could try to pull him.

"I need a dog." He announced, looking at her expectantly. She startled, apparently not expecting his abruptness, before tucking her hair behind her ear and tittering a bit nervously.

"Well we do indeed have dogs here. What kind of dog are you looking for?"

_Yes thank you, that was obvious._  He refrained from saying that portion out-loud, however, as it might make her change her mind about being helpful in finding him a replacement fri-skull. (He wasn't going to continue on with that rubbish sentimentality) Instead, he grinned at her charmingly, laying it on slightly thick, and said, 

"Well, I don't really know much about the types, but I'd like a quiet, loyal companion, one that is easily taught and doesn't cause a terrible ruckus. Do you know of a dog like that?"

In all actuality, Sherlock had done extensive research into the different breeds of dog that were available, so he knew quite a good deal about the different traits of dogs. However, acting a little bit clueless will make her feel that her role is more important, and thus make her more likely to truly chose the dog whose personality is a good match. The girl tapped her chin thoughtfully, eyes distant as she mentally went through their current tenants. Sherlock waited impatiently, refraining from tapping his foot as it wouldn’t fit in with his current charming facade.

"Well hm. I don't know about causing a lack of ruckus because most dogs will make noise and get excited occasionally, but we have some English Shepherd puppies and a Jack Russell Terrier that's a year old. Would you like to come back and take a look? I’m sure we can find someone to, catch your eye.”  
  
She sent a flirtatious look his way, and he could tell that she was implying more than just finding a dog companion, but he ignored it and just smiled back, gushing enthusiastically,  
  
“That would be fantastic! I’m very excited to see them. I’ve always wanted a pet of my own but my mum would never have allowed it, shame that.”

When the girl smiled back encouragingly, motioning for him to follow as she opened the door to the back, he was smugly satisfied at his ability to fool others into finding him to be an ordinary individual. As if he would be so boring in real life. He looked around curiously as they made their way through, partly for the sake of the character but also partly to determine the amount of care the animals had been subject to. The facility was well lit, warm without being too hot, and the cages each had enough space for the animals to move freely and comfortably. He was pleased by these conditions as he did not want a companion who would be predisposed to distrust him. Once he had reached the section the dogs were in he glanced at the family of Shepherds, grimaced slightly in disgust at their youthful enthusiasm, before passing them by to look in at the terrier, noticing his calm stance and wagging tail as he crouched in front of the cage. He examined him quietly for a second before glancing up to the attendant and smiling,  
  
“What can you tell me about this young chap? I’m sure you know loads about all of your tenants here.”  
  
Flattery will get you anywhere he noticed as she blushed and seemed to become more confident, smiling and gesturing to the terrier as she responded,  
  
“Of course! This terrier belonged to an older gentlemen who needed someone to help out around the house as he was getting on in years. He has gone through some obedience training and he’s been taught to do some basic house hold stuff, such as bringing shoes to you and other stuff that someone older may have a hard time doing. The man died recently though, which is how we ended up with him. He didn’t really give the little guy a name, mostly just whistled when he needed him, so you could pick a new name for him quite easily.”  
  
Hearing the lady’s description of the dog only cemented his assurance that this was the right dog for him. He made a fake noise of sympathy for the man’s death, not caring much as he didn’t know the man and the death was beneficial for him, and sent another charming smile towards the attendant.

“He sounds like a perfect companion for me. Where can I sign?”

The attendant was visibly excited and chattered to him enthusiastically as they took the dog out of the cage and headed for the front, but he mostly tuned her out as he tried to think of a decent name for the pup. He considered John briefly, considering the breed was named after a man named John (though really he was more considering the name based on his best friend), before shaking his head and deciding on Nipper, the name of a dog in the famous painting, “His Master’s Voice”. He didn’t recall it for its claim to fame however, he had been hired to find the painting after it had been stolen, though it turned out that the painting the man had owned was a fake, much to the consternation of the owner. Yes, Nipper was sure to be an adequate replacement for his lost skull (and his most treasured friend).


End file.
